The Project
by l0ldemort
Summary: Hermione and Draco bond over a class project, and soon their relationship develops. But what's the catch? Read to find out.
1. Chapter 1

**If you've read this story before the month of August 2011 read this note**

**A/N: I've changed this chapter because of one teeny mistake I made, about when Professor Slughorn would need the feathers. Just a teeny detail. Ok continue reading and enjoy! **

_Chapter One—Jobberknolls _

Harry, Hermione and Ron made their way past the Quidditch pitch and down the steps leading to Hagrid's hut. It was a beautiful Monday afternoon, and the trio was glad they had Care of Magical Creatures, so they could spend it outside. "I wonder what Hagrid's bringing in this afternoon?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged, but Ron replied, "I hope it's not those Blast-Ended skrewts again. Nightmare, those bloody creatures are." Harry and Hermione laughed, and went to the usual spot where they had their classes.

Unfortunately, they were dismayed when they saw not Hagrid, but Professor Grubbly-Plank standing before the group of sixth years. "Welcome to Care of Magical Creatures, year five. To kick off this term, we'll start with—oh, _what Miss Granger_?" All eyes averted to Hermione, who had her hand up in the air. "Where's Hagrid, Professor?"

"_Professor _Hagrid is away, by Professor Dumbledore's orders. _Confidential _orders even I don't know, Miss Granger," she added, as Hermione's mouth opened again to ask the question. Malfoy and his friends, who were hanging away from the group, whispered loudly, "Glad that big oaf's out of the picture." The Slytherins cackled. Harry retorted, "Shove off, Malfoy," and Ron and Hermione gave Malfoy's posse angry looks. The Hufflepuffs shushed them.

"As I was saying," Professor Grubbly-Plank continued loudly, "to start this term, we'll start with discussing these creatures…" And with that, she uncovered a large piece of cloth from a cage behind her back. The cage, which was quite huge, held strange-looking birds. They were very, very tiny, about the size of a pebble. They were greyish, with blue speckles all over them. They opened their beaks, but did not make a sound. There must've been at least thirty in the cage, and still they did not occupy all the space. "Does anybody know what these creatures are?"

"Those are Jobberknolls, Professor," Hermione answered. Professor Grubbly-Plank nodded, and awarded Gryffindor with five points. "Care to tell the class what Jobberknolls are, Miss Granger?"

"Jobberknolls are tiny birds from America and Northern Europe. They don't make noises, unless they're about to die, and they let out a long scream of everything they've ever heard. Their feathers are useful, and are ingredients in Truth Serums and Memory Potions." Professor Grubbly-Plank grinned. "Excellent, Miss Granger. Take five more points to Gryffindor! The last part of Miss Granger's answer is important. We're growing these Jobberknolls for Professor Slughorn. He's had a shortage of Jobberknoll feathers, and he plans on teaching his class to brew Truth Serums and Memory Potions in a few months, probably by December or January. By then these Jobberknolls—'' she gestured to the cage "—would've been fully grown."

"So we're supposed to _raise _them, Professor?" Dean Thomas asked. Professor Grubbly-Plank nodded. "Right, Mr Thomas. As this term's assignment, I will pair you lot up. A pair will take two Jobberknolls each and for the next month, you will be raising the Jobberknolls like they are your _own children_." This statement got a groan from the Slytherins. "And this project will earn you not only grades from me, but also extra credit from Professor Slughorn. Now take note, these Jobberknolls are extremely fragile. They need proper care and pampering, and a lot of attention. You wouldn't have to worry about food, though, they only eat insects."

Professor Grubbly-Plank paired up the class, which consisted of mostly Gryffindors and Slytherins, but there was a fair amount of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. She took out a roll of parchment from her cloak and read off names from the class list.

"…Boot and Patil…no, not Padma. Miss Patil from Gryffindor, Mr Boot. Longbottom and Bones, Potter and Padma Patil, Weasley and Abbott, Finch-Fletchley and Parkinson…"

"_A Hufflepuff!_" Pansy gasped, a look of disgust on her face. Professor Grubbly-Plank continued until she reached the bottom of the list. "…Nott and Brocklehurst and last but not the least, Malfoy and Granger. Now choose your Jobber—''

"A FILTHY MUDBLOOD! That's not fair! _I _get paired with _a Mudblood? _I'd rather have the great big oaf back to teach than let a Mudblood near me!" Draco Malfoy complained, his face red with fury. He pointed a finger at Grubbly-Plank. "You change that pairing! Anyone but that Mudblood. I'll have you fired, woman, my father is a school governor and _he shall hear about this_."

"Mr Malfoy, your _language! _Watch your tongue, Mr Malfoy, or _you _will get a month's worth of detentions! School governors have no right to sack teachers, and I do not _care _about who your father is. The pairing is final, and you will just have to work out with whatever issues you have with Miss Granger."

Meanwhile, amidst Malfoy's shouting, Hermione simply turned beet red. Her two best friends, on either side of her, had looks of surprise on their faces. "Malfoy? You can't simply work with _Malfoy_. He hates you, and you loathe him!" Ron said. Hermione looked at Ron. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Ronald." Harry stared at Hermione. "So what's your plan, then? This is worth a grade, Hermione, and I know you won't let Malfoy ruin your chances of getting top marks," he stated. Hermione nodded. "I—I'll…_We'll _just have to work it out. Malfoy and I. He could be, and is, a prick but he still cares about his grades. At least, Lucius Malfoy the school governor does."

The pairs walked up to each other and as Professor Grubbly-Plank instructed, took two Jobberknolls, one person each. Malfoy and Hermione stood within five feet of each other, and took their Jobberknolls last. The tiny birds had tags on them. Hermione's had a blue one, and Malfoy's had a pink. "If you would like, you could name your Jobberknolls and write them on the tags provided. Remember, this project is worth forty percent of your final term marks. Do not mess it up. And I shall know if you have not been cooperating with your project partners. The tags have more than one purpose," Professor Grubbly-Plank said. "Class dismissed!" She waved her hand and the students walked away, back up to the castle, in pairs. Harry was whisked away by Padma to talk about how they were going to work together, and Ron walked with Hannah to choose names. Hermione decided to wait for Draco, but he chose to walk along with his friends.

Hermione contended herself with observing the little creature in her hands. The Jobberknoll had soft feathers—at the moment. Its beak was short and stubby, and its eyes were grey-blue—like its feathers. She stroked the fine feathers and muttered, "What shall we—I call you, little Jobberknoll?" Then, from behind her, a familiar voice said, "I think you should call him Scorpius." Hermione turned around and almost lost her balance on the steps when she was face-to-face with Malfoy. Malfoy was scowling.

"What?" Hermione huffed.

"I said, I think you—pardon, _we_—should call him" Malfoy gestured to the Jobberknoll in Hermione's hands—"Scorpius."

"I meant, _what do you want_? I reckon you wouldn't want to be near me, since I'm a Mudblood."

Malfoy shrugged. "We have to work together to get a good grade. My father would go ballistic if he found out I was failing _Care Of Magical Creatures_, even though the big oaf taught it. Well, not now, so he would go even madder," Malfoy reasoned. Hermione nodded slowly. Well, that was good. At least Malfoy wasn't being _difficult _with the we-have-to-work-together-to-get-a-good-grade. They walked up the steps in silence—most of the students were in the castle already.

"Where're your friends? Wouldn't they be disgusted when they saw you walking with a Mudblood?"

"Dear Lord, Granger, don't make this difficult! It's a bloody project, they'll cope. And who knows where Crabbe and Goyle are, probably using the birds as Bludgers on first years."

There was another moment or two of silence. Then Hermione said, "Scorpius is a terrible name for a cute little bird." Malfoy looked shock. "For your information, Granger, I've had that name picked out for my future _son_, if I ever had one. And it's a wonderful name. Unusual, and powerful-sounding."

Hermione looked at Malfoy weirdly. "Fine, you name the bird Scorpius. I get to name the other one." Malfoy shrugged. "That's fair." He held out the bird he was gently clutching with his left hand. It was sleeping. Hermione took it and gave him the one she held, now named _Scorpius_. Once they finished climbing the steps, Malfoy took out a quill and scribbled the name on the tag. After a long time of pondering, Hermione said, "Rose. I'll name her Rose. Can I borrow your quill?"

Malfoy gave her his quill. "Sounds like a common name, Granger." He scrunched up his nose in disgust. Hermione carefully scribbled _Rose _on the pink tag and retorted, "It's a lovely name. Rose is my favourite flower." She beamed at the Jobberknoll. Then the bell rang for the next class. Hermione hurried off to Ancient Runes without bidding Malfoy good-bye.

"My quill, Granger!" he called after her.

But Hermione was already out of earshot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Quite An Encounter_

"What took you so long earlier? Harry and I got to the castle and realized you were missing." The trio was sitting in the Great Hall, eating supper. "Malfoy and I walked back. We discussed names. At least I don't have to worry about him not wanting to cooperate—he's willing enough," Hermione answered, and ate a piece of her shepherd's pie. Little Rose the Jobberknoll was resting on the table, along with Harry and Ron's Jobberknolls, Bilius and James. "How original, you'vegiven your Jobberknolls your middle names." The three birds were eating out of a small dish, which Harry filled with dead dragon flies and worms. It was a bit disturbing to watch dead insects on the table, but there was nowhere else to place the birds.

"That's pretty weird of Malfoy, being willing to work with _you_," Ron said.

"It's not the only thing Malfoy's doing weird these days," Harry whispered. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron turned his attention to his pudding. "For goodness sake's, Harry, _Malfoy is sixteen_. What could You-Know-Who do with a _sixteen year-old_? Potions advice?" she said, careful not to let anyone overhear. Harry was yet again, forcing them his theory that Draco Malfoy was in fact, a Death Eater. Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Malfoy could be…spying on Hogwarts and Dumbledore! That's an easy task to do as a Hogwarts student," Harry pressed. Ron sighed. "Mate, give it a rest. Besides, You-Know-Who's got Snape to do that for him."

"Snape is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, remember, Ron?" Harry said.

"Yes, but Voldemort…he keeps Snape close, right?" Hermione said. "Give your theory a rest Harry." She finished her pie and rummaged in her bag. Then the quill fell out. "That's new," Ron said, marvelling the quill's glistening silver feathers. Hermione groaned. "And it's not mine. It's Malfoy's. it's the one I borrowed earlier…and, oh, I have to return it to him." She scooped up Rose, who was dozing off beside her plate, and looked at the Slytherin table. No Malfoy, but Crabbe and Goyle were still there. "See you later in the common room!" she said to Harry and Ron, and walked out of the Hall.

How was she going to find Malfoy? He could be anywhere. In the library, doing homework? Hanging around the Slytherin dungeons? Taunting younger Hufflepuffs? Taking a bath in the prefects' bathroom? Draco Malfoy could be anywhere. Hermione sighed and decided to walk back to Gryffindor tower instead, resolving to return the quill to Malfoy the next day. As she was going up to Gryffindor tower, the staircase changed ways. Hermione groaned. She had no choice but to climb the staircase and take the next one, hoping it won't move unexpectedly—5 years at Hogwarts and the staircases were very unpredictable still.

The staircase led to the dark Charms corridor—it was dark and lonely at night since of course, the corridor was only at use during class hours. But tonight, it seemed like it was put to use. Hermione walked up and down the corridor and heard a noise. She pressed her ear to a classroom, and sure enough, there was a sound of tables and chairs moving. And…moaning? Screaming? Was somebody hurt? Reluctantly, Hermione opened the door and—

"OH DRACO! OH! _FUCK DRACO, FUUUCK!_"

"Pansy, stop…_Pansy!_"

Hermione's eyes widened at the sight before her. There was Draco Malfoy, all right, the one she'd been looking for. But he wasn't alone. Pansy Parkinson was there in the middle of the room, stark naked and lying on the teacher's table. Her legs were spread apart and Malfoy was in between them, also naked. Pansy stopped screaming and Malfoy stopped thrusting as Hermione stood there, with her eyes wide opened. "Granger!" Malfoy surprisingly screeched. He didn't look angry, only puzzled. But Pansy was furious. "Get out, Mudblood!" Hermione threw Malfoy's quill on the ground, said, "Just wanted to give back your quill!" and immediately closed the door, her face hot and red with embarrassment , her heart beating and her limbs shaking. After a few minutes Pansy's screams and moans continued as if nothing happened, and Hermione walked aways.

First of all, that was _very _embarrassing. Walking on people having sexual intercourse was not on Hermione's to-do list, especially Pansy Parkinson and _Draco Malfoy _having sexual intercourse. It was just very, very unpleasant.

Second, _why would anyone do that_? She was aware that shagging was a common thing around Hogwarts. Why, only last night there was rumour that McLaggen and Katie Bell were doing it in the deserted common room just after midnight. But in a _classroom_? Really? Now she'd never step into that classroom again without wondering _Which table did Parkinson and Malfoy shag on? _

Third, how could she confront Malfoy now? It was going to be awkward. On her mind would be _I saw you naked, having sex with your girlfriend in a classroom last night _but she would be smiling and asking how Scorpius was.

The Jobberknolls! How could she forget about Rose? The little bird was stowed away in her bag when Hermione got upset about the staircases shifting. Thank fully Rose was all right. Hermione caressed Rose's feathers and beak and made her way to Gryffindor tower, trying to forget about what she just saw.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

_Hogsmeade_

The week passed by with a blur. The day after Hermione's little 'encounter', she and Malfoy pretended nothing ever happened. During Care of Magical Creatures they sat together and monitored Scorpius and Rose while Professor Grubbly-Plank gave the lectures and lessons. They would greet each other in the halls civilly, and trade Jobberknolls for the night—the birds would spend the day with whoever they spent the night with, and then would trade places again. Malfoy and Hermione treated the Jobberknolls like their own. They were like parents.

Divorced parents, that is. All the other partners were almost always side-by-side these days, cooing over their new pets. Hermione nowadays was squeezed in between Harry and Padma, Ron and Hannah Abbott. Like somehow they were 'married' because they had 'children'.

Friday afternoon and the sixth year students of Care of Magical Creatures were outside, enjoying their Jobberknolls. Harry and Padma's already began flying, and Neville and Susan's Jobberknolls already grew. Ron was pretending Bilius was a snitch, along with Dean and his Jobberknoll, Beckham. The grounds near the Black Lake was literally littered with Jobberknolls. Even Pansy and Justin were outside, debating whether Jobberknoll Number 1 and Jobberknoll Number 2 could swim.

Malfoy and Hermione were sitting underneath a tree, enjoying the leaves fall. Scorpius was attempting to flap his wings and fly ("Stupid bird", murmured Malfoy) Rose was already above Hermione's head ("Clever girl, that's my Rose!") when Malfoy turned to Hermione and said, "It's a Hogsmeade weekend tomorrow." Hermione nodded. Do you want to leave the birds in the castle, or take them to the village?" she said, not tearing her eyes away from cute little Scorpius, who managed to rise 4 inches off the ground then fall back again. Malfoy shrugged. "Safer we take them to Hogsmeade." Hermione nodded.

"Say, do you want to go to The Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" Malfoy blurted out suddenly.

Hermione glanced sideways at him and raised an eyebrow. Malfoy took this as a question—_Why?_ He shrugged. "Is it wrong to ask a young woman out for a drink?" Hermione shook her head. "Though, you never struck me to somebody who would be asking me out for a drink, _Malfoy_."

"Who do you think I _am_, Granger?"

"An arrogant pureblood Slytherin who hates Muggles and Hufflepuffs," Hermione answered simply. Malfoy feigned shocked. "Well, Granger, I will prove I'm not just _'an arrogant pureblood Slytherin who hates Muggles and Hufflepuffs'_. You forgot the fact that I'm a _handsome _arrogant pureblood Slytherin." Malfoy winked.

"Whatever, Malfoy."

"So is that a yes?"

Hermione shrugged. It wouldn't hurt. Malfoy has acted civil towards her—hell, not just civil, but _nice_ actually—these past few days. "Maybe."

"You have to do it, Hermione."

The trio were sitting in the common room, on their favourite seats near the fireplace. There were ten Jobberknolls up in the air, and the Gryffindors had fun playing with and attempting to catch them that most of the seats were unoccupied—everybody else was standing up. Also, nobody would listen to their conversation.

"I thought you'd act _differently_, Harry!" Hermione said. She just told Harry and Ron about the fact that Draco Malfoy had asked her out on a date. Correction, not really a date—just a drink. She turned to Ron, and he shrugged. "I don't know. But… Harry's right Hermione, I reckon. Malfoy has been weird. He just…did you notice he just disappears during mealtimes? And he's not the bully that he used to be, he seems too preoccupied," Ron said. Hermione threw her hands up. She expected her best friends to be all anti-Malfoy about this. But no, they _urged _her to go have drinks with Malfoy tomorrow.

"Just go, Hermione. It won't bloody hurt. Then maybe you can find out something—''

"Something about Malfoy being a Death Eater?" Harry's voice trailed off as Hermione cut in. Harry shrugged. "Fine, Harry James Potter. For _your _sake I'm…going to have a drink with Malfoy."

Ron nodded. "And you know it's not a date, he would've asked you to Madam Puddifoot's then."

"Ready to go, then?"

The trio were standing in the middle of Gryffindor tower, wearing their jackets. Hermione nodded, pocketing tiny Scorpius the Jobberknoll. Together they set off to the school grounds, where as usual, Filch was standing guard to see if the students had permits to go to Hogsmeade. "Remember, just act normal and…you know, try to find out stuff about what Malfoy is up to these days, but _don't be too obvious_," Harry said. Hermione cast him a look. "Harry, stop it. I know what to do and what _not _to do, and an example of what not to do is to ask Malfoy—''

"Ask me what, Granger?"

Hermione turned around and was face-to-face (for the second time!) with no other than Mr. Malfoy himself. "N-nothing, Malfoy," Hermione stammered. "See you, Hermione," the two boys called. They shot Malfoy _Do-anything-to-her-and-you'll-regret-it _looks and headed towards the road to Hogsmeade, whispering fervently. Hermione stood there, not knowing what to do next. Malfoy's friends weren't to be seen anywhere. "So, off we go now, Granger, shall we?" Malfoy said and….offered Hermione his arm. Dumbstruck, Hermione simply nodded and pocketed her hands. Malfoy, unpleased by this, did the same.

The pair got to Hogsmeade, quite shivering because of the sudden September coldness. Quietly, they entered The Three Broomsticks which was, surprisingly, not that crowded. Being early into the day, Hermione assumed everybody was out doing their shopping, at Zonko's, or at Honeydukes. "Butterbeer?" Malfoy asked Hermione. She nodded, and got out her purse. But Malfoy shook his head. "No, no, Granger. Don't you _know _the mechanics of a date? The men always pay," he said, handing two Sickles to Madam Rosmerta. She gave Malfoy two foamy mugs of butterbeer in return, and Malfoy steered Hermione to a booth in the corner. Hermione raised her eyebrows, questioningly.

"So, this is what it is? A date? I thought you just wanted Rose and Scorp to…bond over. Or something like that," she said lamely. Malfoy chuckled. _How very un-Malfoy-ish_, Hermione thought. "Oh Granger. Rose and Scorpius could bond over. And so could we," Malfoy said, sliding into the booth opposite Hermione. Hermione was glad Malfoy didn't sit next to her. That would've been awkward. And uncomfortable.

"But last time I checked, you were Draco _I hate Mudbloods _Malfoy," Hermione insisted.

"Tsk, tsk. Always the tone of surprise Granger. I'm a _Malfoy_. I was raised like that. Besides, people change. Maybe I have. Maybe I don't detest the existence of Mud—excuse me—Muggle-borns." Malfoy casually took a sip of butterbeer and took out the tiny Jobberknoll resting in his jacket pocket. It chirped happily once Malfoy placed it on the table top. Hermione remained silent, and after a few moments, placed Rose beside Scorpius, too. "Okay, Malfoy. Say, I believe you changed. You, I quote, 'don't detest the existence of Muggle-borns'. But why now? Why so sudden?"

"Stop asking questions, Granger. Who knows how Potty and Weasel have survived five years with you questioning everything," Malfoy muttered. Hermione gasped. "If this was a date, _Draco_, you wouldn't be calling me by my last name and insulting me, or my friends," she retorted, about ready to leave. Malfoy looked around, and saw his Slytherin pals come in. "No!" He grabbed her wrist and gently pushed her back in her seat. Hermione frowned, and turned to look where Malfoy was staring. "Your Slytherin posse is here. I thought you'd want me to go, make some room for all the purebloods," Hermione indicated. Malfoy shook his head. "No, no. Stay. They won't mind me. If they would, they'd think twice," Malfoy said. Before she could say anything, Malfoy made a rude gesture at Crabbe, who was walking over. Blaise Zabini grabbed Crabbe's collar, whispered something, and the Slytherins exited the pub.

Hermione wondered what that little scene was about.

"How did it go?"

"What did he say?"

"Did he treat you well?"

"Were his Slytherin buddies there?"

It was three hours later after Hermione's rendezvous with Draco (halfway through the so-called date, Malfoy insisted Hermione refer to him with his first name, not his last), and she was walking back to Hogwarts with Harry and Ron. They enjoyed their time at Zonko's and Honeydukes, and Dervish and Banges. Harry had a brand new quill and sweets from Honeydukes, while Ron was carrying a package he picked up from the Hogsmeade Owlery.

"It's from Fred and George's shop," he explained. "Since Filch is banning orders from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes coming in Hogwarts, I told them to send me some of their stuff to the Hogsmeade Owlery. They charged me extra, but I'm sure it will pay off." Hermione frowned at this, and said Ron wasted his Sickles and a few rare Galleons of his.

"It went well. Draco-oh, Harry, it's his name after all—he was a gentleman. He paid for the drinks. He started the conversation, and was polite—yes, Ronald, it's possible for Draco to be polite, stop flinching—his friends weren't there, but they came in and exited when they saw Draco and I. And then Draco said we were on a _date_," Hermione added quickly. The boys' eyes widened. "A _date_?" spat Ron. Harry had a look of surprise on his face. Hermione nonchalantly shrugged. "I'm just as confused as the both of you. I wouldn't have ever thought of _Draco Malfoy _asking me out for drinks, but calling said event a _date_?" She giggled at the thought. The boys shook their heads.

"So did you find out anything?" Harry asked after a long period of silence. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. Harry took that as a no. "But you'll never know…those Slytherins are sneaky. Just like the Hufflepuffs are good finders," Harry muttered as they climbed the steps leading to Hogwarts's Entrance Hall. Ron and Hermione just fell silent, pretending to be oblivious that Harry Potter was there with them, whispering about his Malfoy-is-a-Death-Eater theories.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

_Odd Draco Malfoy is Odd _

The next few weeks were pretty uneventful. Well, as uneventful as they were at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The sixth years were stressed out, what with the difficult N.E.W.T. lessons they were taking up in class. And not to mention the homework! Harry, Ron, even Hermione, and the rest of the batch all had bags under their eyes, trying to catch up homework after homework. Not only did they have the Jobberknoll project, they had to write several essays for Transfiguration (Professor McGonagall piling up _even more _assignments), Defence Agains the Dark Arts (Professor Snape was enjoying his current teaching position, definitely), Charms (the amount of homework Professor Flitwick gave was probably taller than he) and Potions (Professor Slughorn wasn't Snape, but he was still a teacher—who gave a ton of workload). Other than that, Harry was tiring out Hermione and Ron's ears with his ever-continuing belief that Malfoy is _indeed a Death Eater_. Nowadays, the two would just feign deafness, ignore Harry, or change the topic. Harry also had other things on his mind, like the secret lessons with Dumbledore.

And on top of that, the anticipation of Apparition lessons.

But all of that was quite 'normal' by Hogwarts standards.

What was _not _normal was the behaviour of a certain Slytherin. Draco Malfoy was, according to the Marauder's Map, disappearing in between classes. Lurking the corridors late at night. "He's plotting something, I tell you," Harry says. Hermione just thinks _He's shagging Pansy or some other girl, get over it, Harry_. But she wasn't anyone to tell her best friends about Draco Malfoy's sex life. But the disappearing and lurking wasn't all that Draco Malfoy was up to. The other thing, was showing friendliness (or was it more?)towards Hermione Granger.

Since that rather eventful Hogsmeade weekend, Draco had shown some _feelings_ for Hermione. He smiled at her when they passed each other in the corridors. He smiled at her during the classes they had together, which was almost everything except for Herbology and Ancient Runes. Since third year, Draco has taken up Arithmancy (much to Hermione and everyone else's surprise, he was a bit of a slacker), and he was actually quite good with numbers. So he and Hermione also had that class together. Draco also smiled at her when their eyes met during meals. During Care of Magical Creatures, Draco made sure that he brushed against Hermione whenever possible. It was all just very un-Malfoy-ish. Which made the trio wonder.

"Maybe he's been Imperiused or something," Ron suggested as they were relaxing by the fireplace during mid-October. Harry nodded. "Barty Crouch Sr. was Imperiused, and we didn't know it. It certainly wasn't obvious." But Hermione disagreed. "Who would Imperius Draco Malfoy to be friendly to me, someone who he absolutely hates? Seems like a waste of time, and a stupid risk taken. Using the Imperius Curse could send you to Azkaban, remember? I doubt anyone who's playing silly tricks with Malfoy's feelings would risk going to Azkaban."

"A love potion maybe?" Ron said, examining his newly-purchased joke kit (which Hermione didn't approve of—"Ronald, you're a prefect!") from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Hermione's eyes widened. "You think Draco Malfoy is under the _love potion_? It doesn't seem he's _in love _with me, Ron," Hermione responded. Harry shrugged. "Can't think of anything else why Malfoy is acting this weird." There was a long silence, then Harry spoke again. "Maybe it's part of his assignment for Voldemort—''

"Give it a rest, Harry!"

"Hello there, _Hermione_."

Hermione looked up from _Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_ and saw Draco Malfoy pulling up a chair to sit across from her. It was a fine Saturday afternoon in October, and the leaves had started to fall, their colors varying from brown to red to orange to yellow green, and everyone was outside. Except for Hermione, of course. Every free time was relaxing time, and relaxing for her meant lounging in the empty library, the vast room full of books and peace and silence all to herself, even for one afternoon. But Draco Malfoy just _has _to come along…

"What do you want, _Draco_?" Hermione snapped. She didn't like being interrupted while she was reading. Draco shrugged. "You, Hermione. I want you," he said in a husky voice. Hermione felt his legs brush against hers under the table. She scooted farther away from him. "You're acting very weirdly these days, Malfoy." Again, he merely shrugged and played with the Jobberknoll on the table. He took his Jobberknoll out, and the two birds flew around the library, not making a sound but the flap-flap of their tiny blue-speckled wings. Draco grinned at the sight. "Look, our little birdies, Hermione," he said, pointing at the Jobberknolls. Then they disappeared into the Restricted Section, circling above the shelves.

Hermione repeated her statement again. "You're acting very weirdly these days, Malfoy."

"I heard you the first time, Hermione. And please, I told you already, call me Draco. It's my bloody _name_, for Merlin's sake." He grabbed a book from the pile next to Hermione. "_Self-Defensive Spellwork_," Draco read the title aloud. He took another random book, then another. "_Jinxes for the Jinxed_. _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions_." Draco looked at Hermione, who was looking back at him with her smart brown eyes. "Geez, Granger, are you preparing for a duel or somewhat? You think the Dark Lord would come bursting from that window over there and attack you and Potty and Weasel?" Draco joked. He flipped open _Jinxes for the Jinxed_. Hermione harrumph-ed. "For your information, _Draco_, I'm just reading those for the sake of reading. And I also have a proper name, you've used it a couple of times now actually," she retorted. Draco merely ignored her and pretended to be interested in the book, but in truth, he was only looking at the few pictures in them. He may have been smart, but he wasn't studious.

After a few minutes of silence Hermione spoke again. "What do you want, Draco? You've been…acknowledging me for the past weeks, I can't help notice," said Hermione. Draco grinned—it wasn't often that Draco Malfoy grinned. And when he did, it wasn't as wide as this. "We're sixteen-year olds, Hermione. Well, I am, you're seventeen, but that's not the point. Hormones swilling about. Males _do _get attracted to females, at one point." Hermione raised an eyebrow. Draco did the same. Hermione decided to play 'dumb'. "And you're saying?"

"Merlin, Hermione! I'm pretty sure you're not daft. You _know _what I'm saying."

"You're Draco Malfoy. I think I know what you're saying, but I'm not sure if what I think you're saying is actually what you _are _saying," Hermione explained. Draco chuckled and cocked his head sideways. _Harry is right_, Hermione thought. _Draco_ is_ acting bizarre. But not only by the suspicion Harry has against him_. "What _you _just said, Hermione, didn't make any sense. But what I _am _saying is that…." Draco paused and cleared his throat. "…is that…will you go out with me?" he finished quickly. Hermione's eyes widened and she gasped.

Then she slapped him. Hermione Granger _slapped _Draco Malfoy.

Good thing Madam Pince was nowhere in sight. Good thing they were the only two people in the library, or else that slap would've turned heads. It was quite, loud, with that _smack! _sound. Draco rubbed his cheek, which was stinging and bright red. "What was that for, Hermione?" Hermione's breathing was heavy. Fast and heavy.

"After all you've done to me, calling me a Mudblood and tormenting me and my friends, acting like the big-headed, arrogant, _pureblood _Slytherin that you are, Draco Malfoy, you have the _nerve _of asking me out? To be your _girlfriend_?" Hermione shrieked.

Just then Madam Pince walked in, holding her wand aloft, levitating boxes of new books. "Ms Granger! That is _no way _to speak in a library! I must ask you, and Mr Malfoy, to leave at once!" she said, looking disgraced. The boxes fell to the ground. Hermione gathered her things and a few books, skirted around the boxes and left the library with a huff, not looking back at Madam Pince or Draco. Draco rushed after Hermione out of the library, and ran after her as she headed for Gryffindor Tower.

"Hermione! Hermione! Get back here, I want to have a word with you!" Draco called after her. But Hermione was walking away fast. Draco sprinted after her, and was walking the same pace as her after a few seconds, although huffing and puffing and wheezing. Hermione threw him a look and began to walk faster. They were now near the Fat Lady. Draco took her hand, which made Hermione's nerves tingle. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. "Please, let me have a word with you," Draco said quietly, his eyes not looking at hers. Hermione tugged her hand back and raised a brow. "Did Draco Malfoy just say _please _to me? A _lowly _Muggle-born?" Draco winced.

"Don't call yourself that," he said, even more quietly than before.

"What are you playing at, Draco?"

"Nothing, I swear!" Draco said, trying to appear innocent. He held his arms upward, like an arrested man. Hermione sneered—she usually didn't, but this was a very unusual situation with Draco Malfoy. She _never_ pictured, thought, dreamed of ever being in this kind of situation (what kind of situation was it, exactly?) with anybody—much less Malfoy, the boy who called her the foul name Mudblood, the one who was everything Slytherin—pureblood, arrogant, proud, handsome—yes, handsome, nobody could deny that Draco Malfoy had good looks—and racist. Now he was telling her, Hermione Granger, 'not to call herself a Mudblood'.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. "I…I resent calling you a Mudblood, back in second year," he explained. Hermione let out a silent, "Ha". "I grew up with my father teaching me how to 'act' like him. He raised me to think Muggles were nothing, lowly creatures equal to mice. Father taught me that Mudbloods were abominations, mistakes that were made. Mudbloods aren't meant to coexist, much less exist, with magical folk as much as Muggles are. I believed Father. He was my hero. I looked up to him. My mother's train of thinking was also the same as his, being from the noble and most ancient house of Black." He paused, his silver eyes meeting Hermione's gentle brown eyes. Hermione's face had a look of confusion, which was seldom seen upon her face. She was rarely confused, but tonight her mind was very boggled. "What I'm trying to say is," Draco continued, "I don't believe in all of that. How I've acted for the past years, it was a façade. What if I started acting differently from what my father taught me? He was a school governor. News would reach him his only son was playing safe, being actually _civil _to Mud—I'm sorry—Muggle-borns. I—I'm scared of Father. And I didn't want to have my reputation as a Malfoy ruined." Draco finished, his eyes still on Hermione.

She shook her head. "I don't believe you."

"What! That was the best speech I've ever made, and it was true, from here," Draco placed a pale hand over the left part of his chest.

Hermione shrugged. "Acting civilly towards me and winking and smiling is not enough. You tormented me and my friends for the past five years, Draco. Five years of annoyance from you and your friends is a hard thing to forgive and put behind." She started walking towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Two weeks!" Draco called, holding up two fingers in the air. Hermione spun around. "What?"

"Two weeks to prove that I really want to be with you. To…actually go out with you," Draco almost shouted, if not for the paintings around them shushing him.

"Are you serious?" Hermione said incredulously. Draco nodded, his blond head bobbing up and down enthusiastically. Hermione nodded. "Fine. Two weeks. We'll see."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I received a comment on how I'm 'jumping through years' because I've written that they've got Care of Magical Creatures with Grubbly-Plank, which happens during Year 5, but I've said that they are **_**sixth**_** years. I meant that. I was going to put a note at the end, that, let's just imagine they took every class for N.E.W.T that they got an O.W.L. in—even Malfoy and his cronies. Ok? **

_Chapter Five_

_Two More Weeks _

"Hermione Granger?"

Hermione turned around from her seat at the Gryffindor table. It was breakfast on Sunday morning, exactly a week and a day after Hermione and Draco's little happenstance in the library (and eventually, corridors). She told Harry and Ron about this, and they too were surprised of Draco's sudden proposal. Harry wanted Hermione to just say yes to Draco, but not because he wanted Draco to be with Hermione, but so Hermione could spy on Draco on account of Harry's on-going belief of the young Slytherin being a follower of Voldemort. Ron seemed hesitant about Harry's plan, though, and Hermione thought the same.

The voice who spoke her name was (surprisingly) Theodore Nott. Her name sounded foreign on his lips, and he looked disgusted just to be there in front of her. "Yes?" said Hermione, raising an eyebrow. Theodore Nott glanced back at the Slytherin table, where Draco was giving him an icy look. He turned his attention back to Hermione and brought out a box from underneath his robes. "Draco wanted you to have this." He thrust the box on the table and hurried away from the Gryffindor table. Lucky for him, not many Gryffindors were there since it was Sunday—the students could sleep in.

Hermione opened the box, glad that Harry and Ron were still sleeping, and that her only companion on that part of the table was little Rose the Jobberknoll. All week long, Draco has been sending her small gifts and tokens and notes. She took out a silver pendant, the color of Draco's eyes, from the box. The pendant had the shape of a lion with a ruby for its eyes. Lion, the Gryffindors' animal. She looked at the Slytherin table, and Draco was smiling at her. He stood up and walked over. Hermione was faster, though. She downed her pumpkin juice, tucked Rose in her robes pocket, and left the pendant and box on the table. She headed for the doors and exited the Great Hall.

Why was Draco doing this? One, did he _really _wanted to be with her? And two, _why_? Why did Draco, all of a sudden, out of the blue, _wanted _a relationship with her? What was it going to be like? He was the one who had been the stereotypical school bully to her and Harry and Ron. He was the typical Slytherin, looking down on the other students and criticizing people about their blood statuses…especially Hermione. He'd called her Mudblood several times. But there was this feeling in Hermione's gut. A feeling that made her want to say yes.

She stopped walking, and found herself heading for the Astronomy Tower. She shrugged, wondering why she chose that path, and continued until she was up the Tower. She pondered more about Draco, and his gifts, and what that feeling in her gut was, when suddenly, she felt someone else's presence behind her. "Ahem.. Hi, Hermione." Hermione spun around, and it was no other than, of course, Draco Malfoy. Hermione nodded curtly and turned away, facing the open sky. The day has just started, and the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly. Draco stepped nearer her, until they were only a foot apart. "Have you thought of your answer yet?" asked Draco softly, looking at the sky, too. Hermione shook her head.

"Is that a no?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, Draco, okay? I don't know!" Draco smirked, and Hermione frowned. "What?" Hermione snapped.

"Maybe you'll know your answer after this."

Draco swiftly stepped towards Hermione, making the space between them almost non-existent—they were only inches away from each other now. Draco touched Hermione's cheek lightly, and Hermione's breathing went fast. He cupped her face with his hands, and in no time at all, his mouth was on hers. He kissed gently, kissing Hermione's plump, lovely lips. He thought he'd ought to stop, when Hermione opened her mouth, welcoming him in. Draco smiled as Hermione put her hands around his neck and participated equally in the kiss. It could've been a minute, the whole morning, or a day after they broke apart—they didn't really care.

"I take that as a yes?" Draco whispered, grinning. Hermione smiled. It wasn't so often you'd see him grin.

"What do you think?"

And with that, they walked back to the Great Hall to finish breakfast.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six—__Why?_

Word about Draco Malfoy, the most Slytherin of all Slytherins dating Hermione Granger, Gryffindor's golden girl, and one of Harry Potter's best friends, spread about quickly. After breakfast, Hermione disappeared to Gryffindor Tower to tell Harry and Ron while Draco stayed at the Great Hall with his posse, who obviously knew already. Saturday afternoon, all of Slytherin and Gryffindor knew, much to their surprise. Sunday morning, the whole student body knew. By Sunday evening, even the ghosts found about Mr Malfoy and Ms Granger.

"But _why_, Hermione? We thought you didn't like Malfoy!" Ron said, for the umpteenth time. It was Monday evening, and the trio was sitting in the confines of the boys' dormitory. Since the common room was crowded (with people mostly gossiping about the Malfoy-Granger pair) and the boys couldn't go up the girls' dormitory, they chose the boys' instead.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and stood up, facing him and Harry. "I thought that you would be happy for me at the least, Ronald. I—I've made my decision to give Malfoy a chance. Besides, I thought you would approve because it would mean I could 'spy on Malfoy more'," Hermione made air quotes as she said the last words while looking at Harry. Harry stared at her blankly. "We didn't think you would push _observing _Malfoy this much, Hermione!" he said. Hermione threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "I've explained to you loads of times, I'm doing this because I _chose _to, and what if Harry's theory is right?" She paused, and walked towards the door. "I could probably talk to him about it. Probably change his views…"

"Do you honestly think he'd listen to you, then? And do you honestly think he's a Death Eater?"

"You said it Harry, _what if he is?_ And why wouldn't he listen to me? He went through all that fuss for the past weeks just to be with me, right?"

And Hermione exited the boys' dormitory, leaving Harry and Ron simply speechless.

"Draco," Hermione whispered. Draco, playing with Scorpius, turned his head around to face Hermione. "Yes?"

Hermione pointed at a group of Hufflepuffs gazing at them and whispering. They noticed that Hermione was looking at them, and they quickly turned away. "They're talking about us," said Hermione. Draco let go of Scorpius, and sent him flying after Rose, who was circling a cedar tree nearby. It was a Saturday morning near the end of October, and it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione and Draco were sitting at one of the tables positioned just outside the display window of Madam Pudifoot's. There were other couples from Hogwarts seated in and out of the shop, like Roger Davis and Cho Chang, a seventh-year Hufflepuff and Padma Patil—but the only one students were paying attention to were Draco and Hermione. Draco shifted, blocking Hermione's view of the Hufflepuffs, and propped his chin on his hand. "Don't mind them, they're just jealous because you're with me, and I'm with you," Draco said, winking. Hermione rolled her eyes. "You've changed a lot by being nice to me and my friends, but you still have that big ego of yours."

"It's not _ego_, dear Hermione, it's called confidence. St. Potter is the one with the big ego," Draco said, sipping his tea. Hermione threw Draco a look and muttered, "Just when I thought you were nice to Harry and Ron."

"But I _am _being nice to St. Potter and Weasel. I don't call them names to their faces anymore, I don't order Crabbe and Goyle to taunt them in the corridors, and I've told the Slytherins to be civil to the whole 'noble' house of Gryffindor," said Draco, beaming of his 'achievements'. Hermione raised an eyebrow. So that's why Theodore Nott helped Seamus Finnigan extinguish the fire he started in Potions the other day!" exclaimed Hermione. They finished their teas and scones, called Rose and Scorpius back and headed back to Hogwarts after a day of spending time together. "I guess you've improved, Draco," said Hermione, clutching his arm as they trudged back up the castle steps.

"Improved? I've _changed _my ways for you, Hermione." Draco kicked a stone out of the way. The two Jobberknolls flew over them as they walked in the castle. "So where are you headed to now?" Draco asked Hermione. She shrugged, and then remembered about her Arithmancy essay that she was nowhere near done (and by that Hermione means she's finished two scrolls and needed to do two more). "I need to finish my Arithmancy homework up in the common room. It will be quiet there since I guess nobody's back yet from Hogsmeade…" Hermione said, letting go of Draco's arm and heading towards Gryffindor Tower. But Draco tugged Hermione's arm and said, "Could I come with you? To your common room?" He smiled, looking down at Hermione. He loosened his grip on her arm, and his hand trailed to her own hand, his thumb caressing her palm.

"I'm not sure the Fat Lady will allow you in. She'll know you're not a Gryffindor," Hermione reasoned. In fact, she wasn't that comfortable of letting Draco in the Gryffindor common room. Not that she wasn't comfortable _with _Draco…it was just sort of welcoming the enemy into territory. But she needed to stop thinking of the Slytherins as 'enemies', especially Draco. In fact, their relationship resembled house unity… Hermione wanted to say yes, but there was this nagging voice in the back of her head saying no…

"Hello? Hermione?" Draco was wiggling his fingers in front of her eyes. Hermione realized that she had zoned out on Draco. How embarrassing. "I was saying, what is the Fat Lady?" asked Draco. Hermione giggled. She hadn't realized that Draco didn't know the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. "The Fat Lady is the portrait guarding the entrance to Gryffindor Tower," Hermione explained, pulling Draco's hand. What could be the harm in bringing him up to Gryffindor Tower, right? Draco merely said, "Oh. Fat Lady. Weird. We don't have a portrait guarding our common room."

"But you live down in the dungeons, Draco. There's no point putting paintings and portraits down there, nobody would see them."

"Are you insulting the lighting of the Slytherin common room, Ms. Gryffindor?"

"No, just stating the facts, Sir Slytherin. Now come on, we're wasting time, I need to finish my homework!"

"You look sexy when you're all worked up."

Hermione smirked. "Stop flattering me, Draco, it's distracting."

"Oh, so you're flattered now, eh?"

"You're making me."

"You like it."

"Shut up, I'm trying to work!"

It was a weird sight in the Gryffindor common room that afternoon. There were only the two of them—Slytherin and Gryffindor's finest. Which usually, didn't end up in a common room together. Draco was lounging on one of the comfiest arm chairs near the fireplace which was unlit, while watching over the Jobberknolls, who were playing a game of tag with Crookshanks. What he really had his eyes on was the bushy-haired girl sitting on one of the desks by the corner. Hermione was busy scribbling down on her fourth roll of parchment, copying something from a thick book. There were other books spread around her, and several scrolls and ink bottles.

"Are you done yet? I'm bored," complained Draco. Hermione didn't answer, and instead flipped over a page of the book she was examining. She flipped more pages, and scribbled some more words, and finally set her quill down. "Now I'm done," she said, beaming. With one fluid motion of her wand, the books were neatly stacked on the desk, and her rolls of parchment and ink bottles neatly arranged in her bag. Draco grinned and walked over to where she was. "Finally, you took forever! What could possibly be so interesting about Arithmancy that you have to write ten rolls of parchment for it?" he teased. Hermione smacked his arm. "I only wrote four rolls, okay?"

Draco nodded and cupped her cheek with a hand, and kissed her. At first it was a gentle kiss, and then Hermione opened her mouth and kissed back. Their tongues were performing a dance that was not choreographed, but rather synchronized, as if they knew each other's moves. Hermione's hands tangled themselves in Draco's soft, blond hair, while Draco's hands trailed down her back, cupping her ass. Hermione moaned, and Draco squeezed. She tugged on his hair, and Draco moved his hands under her skirt. Hermione pulled back. "Wh—what are you doing?" she stammered.

"I thought—" Draco began, but Hermione shook her head.

"Um, no. No, Draco."

"Why? Some other time then? Not in the middle of your common room?" He smiled. Hermione shook her head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't think we should, you know…" She made some awkward gestures with her hands that made Draco chuckle. "You think I would _fuck _you right here, right now?" Hermione scrunched her nose. "Do you have to use such a vulgar term?"

Draco laughed again. "Oh, Hermione." He took a step towards her and brushed a curl away from her face. "I was merely teasing you. Fucking would be good for another time, don't you think?"

"I think not," Hermione replied.

"But _why_? We're together, there's going to be no harm done—"

"I just—I'm just not comfortable with premarital sex, okay?"

Draco's face fell. "Oh."

Hermione nodded. There was silence then, and it was very awkward, just the two of them standing with barely an inch between them. They moved apart, and the only sound that could be heard was Crookshanks mewing. Fortunately, Draco remembered he was not in _his _own common room. "I better go now…don't want the others to find out I've been hanging around here…" He moved around and got his jacket, and went back to Hermione to kiss her. He kissed her lightly on the lips, and waved goodbye, climbing out of the portrait hole.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I just wanted to thank you to the people who have , and will review my story. Thank you so much! :D **

_Chapter Seven-Where?_

Hermione and Draco considered their conversation that afternoon to be non-existent. They didn't speak about it again, and ignoring it was an advantage to both of them—being with each other wasn't so awkward as it would seem after having _that _talk. Hermione enjoyed being with Draco, because he had changed greatly. He didn't taunt any other people, and left that to his friends. He could talk intelligently about anything—wizard politics, Quidditch, books, tips on duelling, and other things. But Hermione liked it when he would randomly talk about love. Not many boys could talk about the subject as passionately as Draco.

"Love…I think I only experienced love once, and it was that moment when I saw you walk down the steps of the Great Hall, Hermione. I've had a schoolboy crush on you ever since, and it was growing day after day, year after year. I continue to bully Potter and Weasley because…I thought either of them had some intimate relationship with you. I was _jealous_. You weren't a Mud—I'm sorry—a Muggle-born to my eyes anymore. Seeing you performing so well in class, you were a genuine witch to me. And a beautiful, intelligent witch. Being with you, I've dreamed about it for two years now, and I just love the feeling when I'm with you. My heart does this dance and…I just feel so happy. Like my life's goal has been complete," Draco once said, when he and Hermione were hanging out in the courtyard one lazy November morning. The courtyard was empty, because most of the students have gone down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Gryffindor team practice; now that Harry was team captain, the team was more popular than ever. Hermione's head was resting on Draco's lap, and he was stroking her hair gently. He smiled as he talked, and his eyes met Hermione's, and they both broke out into large, goofy grins. Her face was so beautiful, the sun's rays shining brightly, her cute freckles being emphasized.

But time with Draco was limited nowadays. In the early days of their relationship, Draco was by her side all the time, except during mealtimes and Arithmancy, the one class they didn't have together (thank Merlin Draco took up Ancient Runes). These days, he would randomly disappear in between class hours and meals, sometimes missing DADA, taking the subject for granted since he was Snape's favourite. Hermione often wondered where Draco disappeared to, and would ask Harry to check the Marauder's Map.

"He's not here, Hermione! We've checked a lot of times, and he just keeps vanishing off the map," Harry said exasperatedly one evening when Hermione asked him again for the umpteenth time. Ron turned to Hermione. "So have you found out anything about Malfoy?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Ron sighed. "You know, have you found out anything about Malfoy, about him being a Death Eater?" He paused to search for the right words, then continued. "I thought that was the only reason you agreed to be with him. To spy on Malfoy." Hermione looked at Ron in disbelief. "For your information, _Ronald_, I chose to be with Malfoy because I wanted to. I—I saw some good and sense in him, and maybe is he was a Death Eater, which he is definitely not, I'd seen his forearm a bunch of times, I could change him!" exclaimed Hermione. The boys became silent, and went back to what they were doing, which was a very complex essay on the best way to tackle dementors.

For the next few days, Draco was absent. Not just during meals and in between classes, but for the whole of those days. He was nowhere to be seen—Harry wanted to ask about it to Dumbledore, but the Headmaster was also away for some reason. He asked also asked Professor McGonagall, who gave him an honest but disappointing answer. "I do not know, Potter. The matter of Mr. Malfoy's absence is between Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Mr. Malfoy's parents and Mr. Malfoy himself," said Professor McGonagall, before dismissing Harry out of her classroom.

"Maybe he's getting the Dark Mark," said Harry. The three of them were sitting in the common room. The common room was empty since it was a beautiful day outside, but Hermione has forced them to stay inside to catch up on homework and to study for exams ("They're months away!" Ron complained). The Jobberknolls (luckily Draco left both with Hermione) were snuggly sleeping in one corner of the common room while the trio pored over their books. Hermione shot Harry a disbelieving look. "Harry! I—I told you, he's not a Death Eater! I've seen his forearm—''

"I said maybe he's _getting _his Dark Mark. Maybe he's getting it this moment, or got it early this week…" Harry's voice trailed off as he noticed the look Ron was giving him: _Mate-stop-it-you're-going-to-hurt-Hermione. _Hermione's eyes were shooting daggers at Harry, but they were also brimming with tears. She blinked them back, hoping the boys wouldn't notice. Harry lightly touched her arm. "I'm sorry Hermione," he whispered, and got back to reading his, or rather the Half-Blood Prince's, copy of _Advanced Potion Making. _Hermione nodded and rest her chin upon her hand. Where was Draco? Could she send an owl to him? But if she did, where would she address it to? He could be at Malfoy Manor, but what if the letter would be intercepted by his parents? She decided against owling him, having this feeling in her gut other than the reason of his parents.

The days passed by, and still, Draco was a no-show. Hermione tried approaching his Slytherin pals, Crabbe and Goyle and even Pansy (which was quite awkward) but their answers were all similar: "We don't know where he is, sorry." Professor Dumbledore wasn't back either, and Hermione, now desperate for answers, thought of approaching Professor Snape.

"Hermione, you know he'll just say he doesn't know, or that he won't tell you where Malfoy is, even though he _does _know," Ron reasoned out when she told them she was going to Defence Against the Dark Arts early. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron continued, "And what if he does something to you? You know, he could report to You-Know-Who that you've been asking around for Malfoy, and then he will get suspicious…"

"Ron! Really, you're jumping to conclusions fast. And it's not like Snape will really hurt me, or any of us, he's part of the Order…"

"But what if it's just a façade, Hermione?" said Harry.

"Well, Dumbledore trusts him, and that's enough for me." Hermione scribbled something quickly on the parchment in front of her, bookmarked a page of _Standard Book of Spells 6 _and left through the portrait hole without another word to Harry and Ron, who were left looking astonished at her.

Hermione walked fast, taking steps two at a time to get to the dungeons. It was quite tiring, since the staircases were changing courses and she had to go down five flights of stairs. Not to mention Sir Cadoggan was following her, jumping from portrait to portrait, up to the second flight of stairs. "Why in such a hurry, m'lady?" he asked of Hermione. Pausing slightly, Hermione caught her breath and murmured, "Need to get to the dungeons."

"The dungeons? A taciturn and obscure place to be at during such a fine, jolly day! What are thou reasons for destining to wanting to go to the dungeons?"

"None of your business, Sir Cadoggan."

"I believe every body's business, is a business of mine," Sir Cadoggan pompously replied.

"That's very big-headed of you to say," Hermione retorted. Sir Cadoggan raised an eyebrow, and passed the painting with a giraffe's legs, but no neck and head. "I think I know of your motives, _mademoiselle_." Hermione paused, and looked incredulously at Sir Cadoggan.

"Oh yeah?"

"Definitely, young Gryffindor! Portraits have eyes, too, and ears. You are searching for the Malfoy lad."

"Do you know where he is?"

Sir Cadoggan smirked. "Indeed, miss."

Hermione gave Sir Cadoggan a look that said _Tell-me-or-you'll-suffer-consequences_, a look she acquired from Draco. "Spill it, knight-in-not-so-shiny armour." Sir Cadoggan pointed downwards. "The dungeons, m'lady, check the dungeons!" He chuckled mischievously and ran off to the opposite direction. Hermione rolled her eyes and continued for the dungeons. She arrived there, and sure enough the place was cold and deserted. She turned left and right, trying to remember the illustration of where the Slytherin common room was according to the Marauders' Map. It was farther away from the rooms Snape used. She decided to go left, when she ran into Professor Snape.

"Ms Granger, what an odd place to find you on a free afternoon," he drawled. Hermione cleared her throat to speak, but Snape kept going. "Maybe you should go upstairs, get some fresh air…" His beady black eyes travelled to the top of her head. "…your brilliant brain cells might freeze off here." Hermione's eyebrows raised, surprised of hearing the teacher give her an insult like that. Compared to the other taunts she's heard from him, this was quite lame.

"Professor, I was just wondering whether you knew where Draco Malfoy was…"

"Your little blond boyfriend? No, I do not, Ms Granger. Now, move along," Snape said, and gently pushed her to the side. Hermione sighed, and continued down the hall, when Snape called out to her. "Ms Granger, I think I may have found Mr Malfoy." Hermione turned around, and there was Draco, standing fifty feet away from her and a yard from Professor Snape. She grinned widely, glad Snape's robes were sweeping out of sight. She ran into Draco's arms, and he held his arms out.

They enveloped each other in a tight hug, and it suddenly felt warm inside the dungeons. Draco's arms were gently wrapped around Hermione, creating some sort of comfortable barrier blocking out the rest of the world from her. The moment was only hers and Draco's. And it felt good.

Draco inhaled Hermione's sweet, apricot scent, and he sighed. "I missed you."

Hermione broke apart, and gazed into his silver-grey eyes. "Where've you been? You didn't tell me you were going away, your friends didn't know where you were, nothing! Not even an owl from you, I was worried _sick_!" She said all of this with a trace of anger in her voice, hitting Draco's chest quite hard. Draco winced, and took hold of her hands. "Stop—Hermione, _I'll explain_." Her hands stopped trying to break away from Draco's grasp.

"Explain then!" Hermione exclaimed. Draco looked around, even though there was no sign of other people. He tugged on Hermione's hand. "First, I'll take you to somewhere comfortable."

"Where?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sorry for not updating the past week! I've just been busy. So now I bring you 2 chapters in one day! Enjoy reading :D**

_Chapter Eight—In The Common Room_

"It's so…dark. So Slytherin," Hermione commented, her eyes taking in the interior of the Slytherin common room. It was literally carved out from rock—it was an alcove within the land that Hogwarts stood on, about twenty feet below. There was only little light coming in from the windows up above, giving the room a gloomy state. The walls were bare stone, the floor cold marble. At the far end there was a roaring fire place with leather couches and armchairs. There were desks lined up on one wall, and a few bookshelves. There were Latin mottos and Slytherin banners that hung on the walls, and a large portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung above the fireplace.

"Of course it's supposed to be 'so Slytherin', it's our common room," said Draco. He took a seat in one of the couches—a love seat. He pulled Hermione next to him, and her head rested on his chest. "Why are we here, exactly?"

"You said I had to explain, right? So I'm explaining here. Or would you rather I do this," he paused, and left trails of kisses on her neck, "than explain?" He continued kissing her neck, his toned arms wrapped around her. Hermione's eyelids began to flutter shut, a smile forming on her lips. Draco grinned, and moved up to kiss her chin and her lips, then the tip of her nose, her forehead, then back again. Draco's hands travelled south, and that's when Hermione got to her senses. She jumped up, and said, "Explain first, Draco Malfoy! You can't just leave me for days and start _seducing _me, explain!"

Draco smirked and made a grab for Hermione. "So I seduce you?"

Hermione pushed him back down on the seat and pointed her wand at him. Of course she wouldn't hurt him, heavens no, but it had more feel and drama like this. "Explain, Draco Malfoy!" said Hermione, jabbing her wand towards Draco. Draco's eyes widened and he started talking.

"I—it was my father's birthday last week and I wanted to comfort him, so I asked Professor Snape to give me permission to go and since Dumbledore wasn't here, I decided to ditch school the whole week long, give my mother some company at home," explained Draco uneasily. Hermione relaxed her stance and gave Draco a hug. "I'm sorry," she muttered, burying her face into his chest. Draco chuckled. "Sorry for what, love?"

"Sorry for acting all drastically and not even considering your actions."

Draco buried his face in Hermione's hair and hugged her back, and they stayed like this for a few minutes. It may have only been a few minutes but to them, it felt like the whole afternoon. They finally broke apart when Draco cupped Hermione's face and bent down to kiss her.

At first it was a gentle kiss on the lips, but Hermione welcomed Draco in, and their tongues started that too-familiar dance again. Although it was chilly in the Slytherin common room, their bodies felt like a hundred degrees. Hermione entangled her hands in Draco's soft blond hair, and Draco's arms wrapped around Hermione yet again, resting on the small of her back. They travelled down south to Hermione's ass, and she didn't complain. She didn't complain when Draco began leading her to the leather couch, whilst not breaking their passionate kiss. All of her thoughts about this moment (and the moment that was led by _this _moment right now if you know what I mean) were erased from her head. She moaned into Draco's mouth when his hands began massaging her breasts, and occasionally pinching her nipple. Draco smiled and felt himself beginning to harden. He rolled Hermione onto her back and pulled away, breathing heavily.

"Do you really want to do this?" asked Draco. "Because if not, we can stop."

Hermione closed her eyes, catching her breath. She nodded. "No harm could be done if we just…protect ourselves, right?"

Draco smiled and took out his wand, and muttered something, waving it about the two of them. "Shall we proceed, love?" He bent down fast and nibbled on Hermione's ear, not waiting for her response. Hermione giggled, and her hands reached for Draco's zipper. She gasped when he felt how hard he was. His cock twitched a little in response to her light touch. She unzipped his trousers, and pulled them off him as Draco literally _ripped_ away her blouse. His eyes glistened with pure admiration as he glanced at Hermione's breasts. She was wearing a white cotton bra which had its fastening in the front. With one swift motion, Draco unclasped it with his mouth (he was quite experienced with this) and marvelled at the exposed breasts of Hermione. He took one into his mouth, and Hermione suddenly forgot all about exploring Draco's semi-naked body. Her head fell back and she moaned in ecstasy. Draco did this for a few more seconds then switched to the other, before kissing Hermione. Hermione gripped Draco's muscular arms and proceeded to unbuttoning his shirt, excited to see if Draco's pectorals met her expectations. Draco continued kissing Hermione, but when she was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, he quickly pulled away as if remembering something urgent.

Grey eyes sweeping across the couch littered with clothing and some messy mess here and there, Draco muttered "_Scourgify_" and "_Reparo_" (it seems that there were some buttons missing on their clothes) and hurriedly dressed.

Hermione, still in her underwear, stood up and stared at Draco, perplexed. "Wh—why?"

"You said you didn't want…you didn't want _this _to happen," Draco answered, putting his trousers back on, not meeting Hermione's eyes. Hermione opened her mouth, but merely nodded. Yes, she didn't approve of…sex at their age. But it would've been _her _who would've stopped it, and not Draco "I've-Shagged-Tons-of-Girls" Malfoy.

So why did he do it? Was it purely because of her?

Hermione put on her clothes, too, realizing that any Slytherin would come in any minute. "Where are the Slytherins, anyway?" she asked, hoping to make small talk out of an awkward situation. Draco shrugged, buttoning his shirt. "Tormenting some whiney first years, I guess." He cleared his throat once they were done dressing.

"You…ought to go now," said Draco quietly to Hermione.

_It's like that day in Gryffindor Tower again_, Hermione thought. She nodded, and stepped out of the portrait hall, wondering about Draco's sudden hesitation.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter Nine—Fool in the Dungeon!_

"So he just…stopped?" asked Ron uncertainly. Hermione nodded, uncomfortable of this very awkward conversation. Deciding she needed someone to confide her feelings and thoughts to, she told Harry and Ron about what happened in the Slytherin common room yesterday, leaving out a few details. She told them that they were kissing when Draco just stopped, in the middle of it, with no apparent reason; he didn't want to talk, he didn't want her to stay. It was very unlike of in-a-relationship-with-Hermione Draco. The trio was on their way from the Great Hall to Potions, with their Jobberknolls flying about—in a few days' time, the Jobberknoll feathers would be collected, and the birds and the owners would part ways.

"What is he was just tired?" Harry quipped, not wanting to say anything to affect Hermione's mood. They asked her what was wrong when she appeared a bit sad this morning, so they had to help her out with this—they were the reason she started talking, after all. Hermione shrugged. "Maybe. But he could've said so."

"Are you sure that _kissing _was all you did…?" muttered Ron. Hermione shot him an incredulous look, but before an answer (more like a retort) escaped her lips, they already arrived at the Potions classroom. Despite the change of teachers, Potions was still being held in the dungeons—students presumed that Snape just liked the dungeons, his House common room being there and all. The hour passed by quickly; Professor Slughorn gave them notes on how to perfectly brew Veritaserum, the truth potion. They would do this after they collected the Jobberknoll feathers, of course, which Professor Slughorn said would be on Wednesday, the day after tomorrow. Then he discussed on how to get the top quality Jobberknoll feathers.

All throughout the class Hermione took down notes fast, a notebook and two rolls of parchment spread in front of her.

All throughout the class Draco kept staring back at Hermione trying to catch her eye.

And all throughout the class Hermione kept her head down, telling herself she was _just taking notes_, and not avoiding Draco's stare—it would be silly to be upset and sulk about him stopping what happened last night. He was being a gentleman. Yes, that was it.

The bell rang for the end of Potions, and Harry and Ron hurried out of the dungeon, but Hermione stayed behind. The three had a free period now, and the boys said they needed help understanding Professor Slughorn's lecture—in other words, they needed to copy her notes. "I'll meet you at the common room, okay?" Hermione said, her eyes trailing Draco, whose back was turned , walking towards the opposite direction. She turned to Ron and Harry, who had a questioning look on their faces. "I just need to run my notes over with Professor Slughorn, to make sure I didn't make a mistake in anything." Ron and Harry nodded, and exited the dungeons.

Once they were out of sight, Hermione quickly followed Draco; she knew he had a free period at this time, too. To her surprise, Draco did not head off to the Slytherin common room, but in a deserted corridor still located in the dungeons. With him was Blaise Zabini, his two goons Crabbe and Goyle, and (what was she doing here?) Pansy Parkinson. She muttered a Disillusionment Charm (thank Merlin for the advance reading that she did) and muttered _Silencio_, tapping her wand against her throat and feet. Now she was as good as wearing the Invisibility Cloak around deaf people. She leaned against a wall ten feet away from the five Slytherins—just the right amount of distance for eavesdropping.

"…but you seem cold to each other today, Draco," Pansy crooned, making a grasp for Draco's arm. Before she could cling to it, Draco moved farther away from her, and Pansy scowled.

Blaise nodded. "Yeah, if you've broken up, you lose the bet, and you owe each of us thirty Galleons." Crabbe and Goyle guffawed, joyed by the mention of money. Draco threw them a dirty look, and they kept quiet.

_Oh my gosh. A bet. That's all we've ever been. A silly dare. For thirty Galleons? _

"Zabini, you've got it all wrong. Guess what happened yesterday in the common room?"

"Did you shag her brains out, Malfoy?" Blaise sneered.

Draco shrugged. "You could say that." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled again, and Pansy shook her head in awe. "Didn't think you could do it, Draco. Fool the Golden Girl of Gryffindor. But you did."

Tears sprang in Hermione's eyes. _They've made fun of me. That's all I am to them. A tramp. Something to be played with! Draco just tricked me! He played with me, and used me for this stupid game! _

_ How could I be so _stupid_? _ Hermione thought. Tears rolling down her cheeks, soaking her uniform's collar and some of her notes, she ran away, sobbing.

Draco looked disbelievingly at Pansy. "You don't have faith in me, Pansy? After all we've been through?" he said dramatically.

"By _been through_, I assume you mean _sex_," Blaise supplied. The two goons chortled again. Draco punched them in the gut. "Will you stop your pointless laughing! It's seriously pissing me off!" he said.

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy,"Crabbe said in his deep, somewhat idiotic-sound voice.

Draco merely sneered. "You watch it _Crabbe_. Remember, I have connections. I could get your father—heck, your whole family—killed with just one touch." With that, he turned his back to where Hermione was, facing Crabbe. Crabbe gulped and frowned and stepped side wards to the corner.

"Easy there, Draco," murmured Pansy. Draco nodded.

"Well, looks like you owe all of me. And haven't I proved something?"

"Yes, Draco, you've proved that you are irresistible." Blaise rolled his eyes.

Draco's eyes looked over to the exact spot where Hermione stood moments ago.

"That anybody could fall in love with me—even a Mudblood like Hermione Granger."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Rather short chapter here, but I think it will entertain you. **

_Chapter Ten—Draco_

She was there. He knew he was there. He could feel her, always. When Hermione entered a room, Draco could smell her familiar smell—apricots with spearmint toothpaste and a hint of parchment. What parchment smelled like, only Draco could imagine, but when Hermione walked into a room…that was what entered his mind.

Draco Malfoy buried his head in his hands as he sank lower in the bathtub, the running water not doing anything to drown his thoughts. But he was still glad the water was there. He splashed some on his face, hoping his salty tears would mix with the soapy bath water and it would not be obvious that he'd been crying.

And of course, the warmth. For Draco, when Hermione Granger walked into a room, even if it was a greenhouse and it was bright outside or down in the dungeons, the temperature would always rise. Maybe it was because to him, Hermione was the definition of warm and comfort and—love.

He knew Hermione was standing there, in the dungeon, just feet away from him and his (rather stupid and gullible) posse. Being the natural Slytherin that he was, he lied. Sneaky, sneaky Slytherin. He told them that nothing was wrong, and it was all just a game. And it was like telling that to Hermione, too, up to her face, _since she was there_.

But being the Malfoy that he was, he just couldn't show his true feelings. Not to his Slytherin friends, that is. If they knew, if they _really _knew what he'd been feeling about the Granger girl…then it would somehow be brought up with his father. The whole House would know, then the whole school would know, everybody would know. And that was not good. Draco Malfoy being in love with a _Muggle-born _was not good, much less Draco Malfoy being in love with a Muggle-born who was _friends with Harry Potter_. The Dark Lord would find out. Then what?

_Splash, splash, splash. _The water was noisily running from the tap and Draco turned it off. He sank lower and lower until his whole head was underwater. He liked the feeling of being submerged underwater. He felt weightless, like all of his problems were gone. Just for that moment of being underwater, he was carefree. Unfortunately, his lungs screamed in disagreement and minutes later, Draco was again on the surface, gasping for air.

His thoughts came rushing back to his head. _Why? Why couldn't he just tell the whole world what he tells Hermione Granger? That he loved—loves—her. _

Always have, not since fourth year when I saw you at that ball with that Bulgarian bon-bon Krum. But always. You are always working hard and never quitting, and so brave. No other girl is like you, Hermione Granger. And I love you.

But these words, he just couldn't say. He was a stupid boy who doesn't know how to show feeling. "Malfoys," his father used to say, "are strong. We do not cry, we do not show weakness…hell, son, we do not show feeling to others. To others we don't trust."

He was numb. But that numbness melted away when he was with Hermione.

_Why? Why couldn't he tell her the truth? That week he disappeared, the classes he missed, what he's been doing. _

Because I'm afraid that if I told the truth, you would walk away. You wouldn't accept me, and you would hate me, which is pretty much the guaranteed reaction I expect.

_But what if she doesn't? What if she tries to understand…? _

She won't! She's Potter's friend, part of that—that Dumbledore's Army.

Which disapproved of everything he's done, everything he's been told; but never believed in.

Draco Malfoy sobbed softly, rocking back and forth as the water drained from the bathtub. He raised his left arm, and the glamour charm has faded.

There, boldly displayed, was the Dark Mark.

_What would she think? How would she judge him? Would she walk away? _These thoughts, these questions, have been swimming in Draco's mind all the while he's been with Hermione. But they made his head ache and his heart pound. Would he be brave enough to face Hermione and explain everything? That their relationship have become more than a bet, and that he truly felt something for her. Love? Yes, positively. But more than that, more than explaining the bet to Hermione, Draco just wanted to come out and be honest. He didn't want any more lies, he was tired of it.

Thoughts of Hermione leaving him swam in his head. _No_, he thought. It hurt more now, because he had actually had a chance of being with her, and it was amazing. Losing that…would break Draco apart.

And with those thoughts Draco sobbed harder, tears freely streaming down his already tear-streaked face.


End file.
